The Wilting Rose
by looking-pretty-grimm
Summary: The infections began years ago. I always thought she and I were safe together, and perhaps we would have even made it all the way through, but now I'm sick and we aren't sure what's about to happen. [Zombie Apocalypse AU] [Ruby's POV; Her final moments.] (The theme is death. Please read at your own discretion.)


"_The infections began years ago. I always thought she and I were safe together, and perhaps we would have even made it all the way through, but now I'm sick and we aren't sure what's about to happen."_

**X**

The emotions I'm experiencing in this moment are a mix of relief, sorrow, and terror. Weiss is hovering over me, but she's being really careful, almost as if she's convinced she'll catch my illness just by being near me.

"You aren't going to catch it unless I break your skin, silly…" I croak out. It's getting harder and harder to keep from coughing when I speak.

She doesn't respond; she simply continues to sob. I wish she wouldn't do that. I wish she wasn't going through this. From a certain viewpoint, one might say that I have it easier than she, considering my pain is only temporary. Hers will last a lifetime.

I raise a shaky hand to her face, wiping the tears from her cheeks, "Please don't cry."

She keeps saying my name over and over again, like she's afraid she'll forget it someday. It isn't her fault if she does, though, and I wouldn't blame her. After all, we're both still young. I'm sure I'll become a mere blur in her mind in the distant future.

The pain in my side is excruciating, even though it's becoming more and more numb with each passing minute. I'm not sure if this is part of the virus, or if this is just what dying feels like. Now I understand why everyone is so afraid of death; it isn't pleasant.

It's actually horrible. The pain, by itself, isn't necessarily too bad in comparison, but what puts the icing on the cake, so to speak, is the mental processes that occur alongside the pain. On a day to day basis, I was never aware that my brain existed, that _I _existed. But now, as the feeling in my legs and arms slowly drifts away, I'm becoming more and more aware of just how impermanent our existence truly is.

Many would choose to pray in this position, lying helplessly on the ground whilst their best friend – maybe even lover, had the time permitted – weeps above them as their life comes to a slow, inevitable end. There was a time when I may have done the same thing. Not anymore.

For what god would allow this to happen? What loving god would permit such a ravenous disease on his land, his Earth? Does he not see the starvation and plague that's destroyed everything we've ever had? Does he not care?

If there is a god out there somewhere, I hope _he's_ praying for _our _forgiveness.

"Come on, Ruby, get up! I-I'm sure there's something we can do!"

"Weiss, I can't even feel my legs…" I say with a smile. She wants to help so badly, just for me to survive this. I know that feeling all too well.

My arm falls from her face and I can no longer feel my torso.

"I can't do this without you, Ruby…" She's crying again. If I could feel my chest, I'm sure there would be a superficial pain inside it.

"Sure you can…" I lie. I know she won't survive long without me, especially not here. We're in the middle of nowhere in a dense forest. Before all of this happened, it would've been a nice place to settle down, but now it's practically a death trap. Plus, who knows what's hiding in the midst of all those trees.

Hell, the second she turns a light on or steps a little too loudly, a horde of…whatever they are…will swarm the place.

Now that I realize it, we were dead either way. The game had been rigged, but we gambled anyway, and now all that's left is to cash out.

"No…" she says and wraps her arms around me, letting her tears wet my neck. I can't feel any of it anymore; I can't even move, "I can't do anything without you…"

"Hey, that's not true," I manage to croak out, "Remember that time in middle school when I got sick and you had to perform both of our monologues?"

She smiles a little – a good sign, "Yeah…I do. She ended up giving us both A's."

"Yeah, she did…" My jaw is numbing now, and those last words slurred a bit. I'm not sure how many more breaths I'll be able to take. I should probably start conserving oxygen.

Weiss seemed to notice I was having trouble and released me, lying me gently on the floorboard. I honestly wish we had found a bedroom first, but I suppose beggars can't be choosers.

My jaw and lips are completely numb now, and I can't speak clearly anymore. Maybe this is why those creatures can only make noises. What if they're trying to tell us something, but they just can't say it?

If my brain is still conscious in a few minutes, I guess I'll find out.

Now the euphoria is setting in. I remember Weiss telling me a year or two ago about how, when someone is dying, a chemical is released into the brain to calm them down. I never quite understood what it meant, but I'm glad it exists. It helps, if only a small bit.

"Ruby…are you…" she can't even get the words out, and I can no longer respond. I blink slowly, giving her some comfort.

That blink will probably be my last one, as my eyelids won't open up again. It isn't that they won't open, it's that they don't even feel like they exist. I know they _are _there, but they feel…lifeless.

I can't feel Weiss near me any longer, nor can I see her or hear her. All of my senses have shut down, and I'm simply waiting for the end to come.

In my eighteen years of life, I don't think I've ever felt so truly alone.

I've lived a decent life, I guess. Even though she doesn't know it, I got to meet the love of my life when were still in grade school. I can't help but wonder, as I take my final breath, what would have become of our relationship, had the circumstances been altered. Would we have seen the end of this plague, perhaps even grown old together afterwards? Or would we have just drifted apart over the years, unable to continue on during our stages of growth and maturity? I suppose I'll never know, but it's a comforting thought to believe we were destined for each other, if destiny even exists.

But there it is, that white light I've heard so much about. It isn't a brilliant white, more of a beige-ish color, really. Like a white wall in an old hospital that too many people have touched over the years. It's more calming than pure white, though. Pearlescent lights always gave me headaches.

Part of me anticipates the afterlife; more-so than my previous self ever did. An eternity in paradise had always seemed a bit cliché to me, if not boring, but that was before people I loved may have went there.

So maybe I'll get to see Yang in a second. Maybe Mom, too.

I just hope Weiss takes her time getting there.

I hope she's okay.


End file.
